


Haunted

by weicheidarling



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Riko Moriyama, Sad Boys Club, brief dub-con, mentions of physical abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 11:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21098501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weicheidarling/pseuds/weicheidarling
Summary: “I hate you,” Jean said without any feeling, voice muffled against Kevin’s chest.“I know.” It carried as much weight as an apology ever could.





	Haunted

Kevin hadn’t been sleeping when he heard Jean’s short scream and the resounding thud that shook the whole house. He shot up to his elbows, looking over the back of the couch to the stairs and the flood of light that suddenly illuminated them as someone flipped on the hall light and sprinted to the guest room Jean was safely tucked away in. If Kevin had to guess, it was probably Abby. 

Every inch of Kevin’s body buzzed with the desire to hurdle himself over the couch and take the stairs two at a time to reach Jean’s side, but he stalled, fisted the fabric of the cushions and too-small throw he was covered with and waited. There was a bit of frantic speaking that faded to murmuring, the sound of the bathroom faucet running, more footfall, but, no more screaming. 

Kevin breathed slowly. One agonizingly long inhale through his nose, hold, followed by the air falling from his open mouth. It helped to ease his heart from hammering in his chest. Eventually, he heard the soft click of a bedroom door shutting, and the light that bathed the first-floor landing in a golden glow flipped off, returning Kevin to blackness. All he had to aid his vision was the too-green hatch marks of a digital clock on the entertainment center.

With time, his eyes adjusted a little more and could distinguish the moonlit windows from the heavy shadows of the living room. Kevin eased himself back into lying down, folding his hands behind his head while knowing full well any attempt at sleep was a lost effort. He wondered if Jean was the same, in his foreign bed, in foreign clothes. Kevin remembered too fresh sleeping in that bed with a poorly patched together hand and a hole in his chest that made breathing labored at best and impossible at its worst. 

No one but them knew this feeling. 

Some part of Kevin knew Jean didn’t want to see him. It stung, but Kevin understood. He’d forced his way into Abby’s house because of some unwarranted sense of duty, and he knew Jean hated him for it. It didn’t deter him. 

He found his feet carrying him to up the stairs before he even considered what he was doing. Wondered too late if Jean would have locked the bedroom door from the inside until he twisted the knob, and it gave easily. Slinked his way inside and gently shut the door behind him.

Kevin had feared what he would do if he startled Jean into waking, but apparently, he didn’t need to. Jean stared at him from the bed to where he pinned himself to the door, face unreadable in the dark. The tension from him crackled as it reached Kevin. He hated this. 

He kept going anyway, pushing past the electric air and came to put his knee up on the bed, leaning over Jean just a bit. His voice cracked when he asked, “Are you okay?” 

Jean scowled up at him in return. “It was just a nightmare.”

His eyes slid to the edges of the room, and Kevin followed for a minute before realizing he wasn’t looking for something, just avoiding Kevin’s gaze. Kevin’s hand flexed, fingers rolling before he steeled himself and pulled back the covers to climb in beside him.

It felt very wrong and very right at the same time. 

There had been a time when laying together like this had felt almost natural ー when they were small and less damaged. And maybe some of that had carried over because when Kevin settled to lay on his side, Jean mirrored his position, so their knees bumped, and his pinky grazed Kevin’s elbow. The bed was big enough for both of them, but only if they were mere inches apart, breathing the same air, merely courtesy keeping them from being nose-to-nose. 

Kevin thought maybe he should say something, but. What more was there to be said? He scowled, letting his eyes fall away to look at Jean’s bruises, or what he could see of them in the dark. He’d always had the worst of it from Riko, and though enough time had passed that he was only discolored with green and yellow blotches, it again struck Kevin with a crippling pang of guilt and sense of failure. There was a cut on his nose that was still scabbed and gnarly looking. Kevin felt overcome with the need to apologize, selfish as it was, but he knew it would only sound insincere and too-little-too-late, so he bit his tongue.

Still. 

Still, he reached across the divide between them and let his arm rest on Jean’s side. Jean sucked in a breath, but with time, he moved at a jerking animatronic pace to crumple into Kevin’s chest. This was too strange after everything that had happened but felt too familiar at the same time. Jean’s arms snaked their way under Kevin’s to fist in the fabric of his shirt between his shoulder blades. 

“I hate you,” Jean said without any feeling, voice muffled against Kevin’s chest.

“I know.” It carried as much weight as an apology ever could. 

They could never go back to how things had been when they were younger. Neither of them wanted to. And sure, that meant losing the companionship they found in each other, the solace, the safety, but. It was a small price to pay for freedom. They were two puppets whose strings had been untangled. 

Kevin wasn’t sure what made him do it. Maybe it’s because Riko was dead. And he’d never been able to before. He pulled Jean back by his jaw and realigned them, so their lips crashed together. The noise Jean made was agonizing, but. He squeezed Kevin even harder. Kevin let one of his legs come up to hook over Jean’s hip.

It made more sense than trying to justify himself to Jean. Kevin knew he didn’t want to hear it. It wouldn’t do him any favors but this. This brought to life everything that had died between them, even if only briefly. Kevin let his tongue invade Jean’s mouth, and he parted his lips willingly in response, taking whatever Kevin gave him. 

Kevin was reminded of every time he’d snuck a sweet into Jean’s willing palm while Riko wasn’t looking, and Jean had quickly placed it on his tongue before anyone could notice. He thought about how his fingers had felt on Jean’s skin and their shared gaze of understanding. He remembered whispered French lessons in the stairwell of the nest, before the stairs were off-limits for Jean, a reminder of sprained ankles and broken fingers. Of a vice-like grip and Jean’s nails cutting into his wrist as he stalled at the door, wide-eyed and panicked. 

It was all too real a feeling as Jean’s hands found their way under his shirt, digging blunt fingers into his back like he was trying to crawl inside Kevin. His lips moved to the column of Jean’s throat, hot, wet breath mixing with a possessive need to mark and mar, to leave his own mementos on Jean’s skin the same way Riko had. He sunk his teeth into the crook of his shoulder and sucked hard, Jean shivered, and a weak noise bubbled up from his gut. 

“Kev, don’t.” 

It barely registered. Kevin lapped at the wound, half pinning Jean down. Kissed a line up his throat and clawed his fingers in his hair, long and shaggy and the perfect length for tightening his fist in. 

“Kev, _stop_.” It hit this time, and Kevin was already pulling away when Jean pressed a hand to his shoulder to push him up lightly. “Stop.” 

Kevin held himself up over Jean and tried to remember the last time he’d looked this small. “Sorry,” he panted. Their chests both heaved. Kevin wasn’t sure if it was the kiss or the panic of their realization. This wasn’t going to work. It was truly dead. Whatever had been there. The non-start they’d never been given. 

Kevin had no right to be upset. He’d watched for too long while Jean became this. He hated this — this sense of responsibility and helplessness. He couldn’t fix this. He didn’t know how to. But would it have been better if he’d made different choices? Or would they both just suffer for it? Kevin knew he was too selfish to humor such a line of thought. 

Kevin licked his lips, had a hard time meeting Jean’s eyes. He was pretty sure Jean was the same. “Do you want me to go?”

Jean’s hand on his shoulder turns to a fist. The bob of his adam’s apple was audible and wet. “N-no. Can we just. Lay here?” 

Kevin nodded and let himself settle. They took their original position, with Jean wrapped around Kevin like a vice, face buried in his chest, legs tangled together. “Your arm is going to fall asleep like that,” Kevin tried, smoothing the riot he’d made of Jean’s hair. 

“S’okay,” Jean muttered. 

Kevin let his arm hang over Jean’s shoulder, not holding, not clinging to him the way he wanted to. He didn’t have the right. So, he released a shaky sigh into Jean’s hair and squeezed his eyes shut. It would have to be enough until the morning.


End file.
